Λbscence

[sun.]

[bG=#f6f3ed]

[bg=#333333]A R C - 1 // O N | T H E | H O R I Z O N[/bg]​

The general population of Bonheim usually lives from one mundane day to the next. The industrial complex is bustling, its air full of smoke and dirt, and the inner circle is filled with white and pink collar workers, as well as those lucky enough to spend their time in one of the many shops, cafés and restaurants. Despite, or perhaps because of the strict laws, Bonheim has always lived in steady peace, its people content and well-cared for. None of the people out in the streets, not even those who cautiously eye the newly arrived Atlasian immigrants on their work-routines, would ever imagine what sort of business was conducted in the precious inner circle at this very moment.

The bar was empty, with the exception of an elderly man sipping on a large glass jar. Curiously, no bartender was in sight. No music played, and indeed, even the sign in the front door was turned to closed, repelling any potentially interested customer. The quiet sips of the old man were the lone sound audible inside, despite the ruckus just a few feet away. In the back of Hoki's Spirits, down a set of stairs, and behind a menacing set of blacksteel doors, a long room was filled with people. The lights were toned down, enough to illuminate the room, but granting those who wished to do so to remain in the shadowy corners. Hushed conversations stacked upon hushed conversations, creating a crescendo of anticipation and nervousness. Rumors of this get-together dominated Create's underworld, and indeed, supposedly even reached Sunny Valley; Word on the street was, even the feared Rotten 6 member Griselda would sent a delegate. The majority of men and women present were seated around a long table made of black wood. Opulent meals were plated closely to one another, leaving little free space left on top of the table. Nobody present seemed to find the food very appealing, however, and indeed, most of the dishes seemed just a touch out there. A set of steamed, black tentacles, plated artfully around a skill. Herbs that were combined and positioned in such a way as to imitate withered roses. Unusually dark and thick slices of meat, most of the sitting inside a puddle of blood having seeped out from the slabs. Only one figure happily chomped away at whatever was placed in front of them, drawing an occassional glance from those nearby.

The intensity palpable, every last person in the room awaited the arrival of whoever was behind the event. The Rogues remained peaceful, but the whispers felt restless. Understandably so, with the supposed mastermind behind the event--merely known under the moniker "Vora"--being essentially all that was known about this... event, other than the prospect of acquiring a rare Eclipse Fruit; The latter of which was simply too tempting to ignore. Of course, Creation has seen many empty threats and promises in regards to the fabled fruits, but word spread so quickly, and even reached many infamous Rogues, who readied themselves to snag one of the powerful items. Over time, more messages by the elusive figure were sent out to select recipients, and so ultimately many thugs, rarity collectors, and Rogues decided to follow the invitation, even at the risk of the event being busted by Magna. However, the underworld was confident to operate in secrecy from Magna, perhaps banking on the government's avoidance of direct confrontation with someone of the caliber of Griselda. Whatever the case, the underworld has reached out to Magna's most dear civilization, Bonheim. The only difference between those present? Their power and pull... Surely, making allies is worth a life in such a situation... perhaps literally.

[/bG]

 

[rissa]

---

The room danced with shadowy corners and restless energy. Quintana Winett sat calmly, her back rigidly straight and hands folded neatly in her lap. She waited patiently, silently, as only some of her fellows seemed able to do. Though she hungered, she refused to eat what was served; not that she was entirely too paranoid, but it could've easily been poisoned. Or better yet, made from weeks old ingredients. Skillfully platted though the meal was, something sinister radiated from it. Maybe it was the omen it bespoke of… the withered roses, the vine-like tentacles, the dark meat marinating in it's own blood.

Across from her a man ate greedily, sloppily, and he was the only one to have done so. She watched uninterestedly and mildly disgusted as he continued to shove food into his mouth. Quin rolled her eyes and looked away, taking in the room and it's occupants as a whole. Not only was she shut behind black steel doors, which would likely withstand a blast or two, but she was locked in a room full of menacing people… Hopefully, as Griselda's delegate (though she doubted anyone present was aware of that) she was among the more… dangerous of the bunch.

Time flowed slowly. It was both aggravating and comforting. Once in awhile she'd glance down at her wrist and watch the minutes tick away. Between those moments, Quin eyed the room patiently, biding her time by searching the faces of those in her line of sight. Recognizing none of them, at least not immediately, Quin took to studying the long, narrow room and satiating her curiosity by imagining just exactly who was pulling these strings.

---

Tags: @alaska

 

[Aero Blue]

In another life, Merrill Fitbit would have liked this sort of ambience for a place of her own; black-steel and chrome, draped in shadows and whispers. The people muttered, horrified cicadas on rotting trees, and their droning created an air that was as exciting as it was terrifying. The Roadkill Deli, sadly, offered little that was worthy of such weighty gravitas, although she had been experimenting with some special aioli for her sandwiches. What a shame; nobody was ever really dying for one of her 'sammies'.

Although surely it was better than the current fare. Gothic chic was a fine aesthetic, although it hardly lent itself to cuisine. Merrill cast a sidelong glance at the voracious one, drawing some strange sort of inspiration to partake in the meal. She wouldn't admit it, but truthfully she had a certain craving for cheese and crackers. Instead, she settled for what seemed like a raw patty of meat, taking a carefully measured bite.

It melted in her mouth – in a bad way. Slime disintegrating into miniature pustules.

The goal was to show off her expertise to prospective clientele – 'Sweet Sister' awaited outside for such a purpose. Rogues were her most generous source of income, although generosity was not the overall vibe Merrill drew from the atmosphere. There was danger in this room, cautious and foreboding. Intimidated wasn't exactly the operating term here - Merrill was a bit too empty-minded for that. It just didn't seem like a great day for conversation. Mindlessly, she took another bite from the patty, before regretting it.

Merrill could only begin to imagine how distraught she would be if the sum of her takeaways from today was meat-slime.

 

[Bears]

You would think after all the trouble he went through in order to escape Bonheim Diederick would have never returned. Yet there he was, underneath the dome like plenty of other Atlasian immigrants. There was a time in his life where Bonheim had been all there was to the world and it angered him knowing that that remained true for the majority of the citizens. They deserved better...they deserved to experience the world.

Shaking his head he decided that was enough revolutionary thinking for today though. It'd be aeons before change would come to the dome and Diederick and his rifle sure as hell wouldn't be the one to bring it. He was here for business and as soon as it was conducted he'd leave this hole and whoever was unfortunate enough to be confined by it once more.

Getting into the city had been tricky but ultimately nothing he hadn't done before. The man wasted no time getting to the meeting point but still found himself as one of the latest arrivals. Figures both hidden by shadows and sitting in plain sight were scattered across the room.

Hard lines formed above his blue eyes as his grayed eyebrows furrowed. A palpable sense of suspense and anticipation hung in the air much like the seconds before pulling the trigger. With a confident gait he strode over to the table, the click of his rifle bumping around underneath his cloak apparent to whoever might be actively listening.

He sat down, his prosthetic arm reaching out to inspect the stylized garnish the moment he laid his eyes on it.

Roses...hmph. Still looks better than most flowers around these parts though. Diederick tossed the withered herbs carelessly to the side as his interest faded and after taking a further look at the rest of the food lining the table, he decided that staring at the door while he waited would be in his and his stomach's best interest.

 

[sun.]

[bG=#f6f3ed]

[bg=#333333]A R C - 1 // O N | T H E | H O R I Z O N[/bg]​

The crowd's hushed voices seemed to quiet down instantly, as the loud eating sounds became silent. Out of the middle of a group of people piled on top of each other, the figure that had shoveled the... decorative food in his mouth, rose from his seat. Clad in a brown leather coat, that seemed both expensive as well as neglected, and a pair of flowing, black pants, he appeared comparatively mundane amongst the colorful mix of underworld denizens, even with the eye patch that covered his right eye. The man quietly chewed on his last bite, and swallowed audibly, then moved to the empty end of the long table, where he widened his seemingly permanent grin further.

"Well then. It seems that most of you are a bit on edge, and I would feel like a terrible host if I were to keep you waiting much longer than necessary." His voice raspy and deep, and with a breathy quality, he seemed to drone through the hushed whispers that occassionally flared up in the crowd. He swayed his hair back, and simultaneously reached into his pocket, pulling out what seemed like a tiny piece of glass, or a crystal perhaps. Raising one brow, as if in disbelief, he stached the shard away, and looked around the room. "Well, that, and it appears we're running out of time. So let me welcome you. I am Vora. I know that not all of you are here with formal invitation, and I fully suspect some of you to plan on killing me for the promised goods. Indeed, it seems we have some common thugs here, which is not quite the crowd I had hoped to attract, but... oh well. It will be more fun this way, anyhow. Especially because we surely have some Magna personnel present, don't we?"

Immediately, the sparse exchanges that could be heard in the corners of the room roared up, and the majority of the men and women present appeared ready for conflict, while some motioned towards the exit. Vora himself allowed the unrest to roar for a while, before he dismissed it, and continued to speak

"What would a gathering be without a fight? Anyhow, let's adress the elephant in the room; as we speak, the Eclipse Fruit is smuggled out of Bonheim. However, I may or may not have elected to supply the Security Bureau with information about, uh... Two minutes ago. While I assume it will take our lovely Overlords of Magna a bit to attend Bonheim, I would wager a guess that the local authorities are on their way now. If they take the hint seriously, that is. I suggest you indulge me for a minute before you storm off though."

Indeed, plenty of the local gangsters seemed ready to leave, and many froze in the middle of getting up, already predicting some sort of trap. A group of people in matching uniforms approached the man who announced himself as Vora slowly.

"Those of you who decide to go after the fruit, here are two things you should know."

Most of the people present perked their ears, as Vora extended his index finger.

"For one, the fruit is smuggled to the East Gate. I don't have to mention that stealing an item such as an Eclipse Fruit in public may carry some consequences, but... That is up to you to decide. Two..."

He lifts his middle finger, as the group of men have reached him, all of them pulling small, pitch-black knives. As two of the four strike, the mysterious man dodges, the first one, and with the same motion presses his flat hand against the second attacker. While the first one catches himself from falling, he and his companions stare in shock, as the second attacker seems to be unable to move, and eventually falls over at nothing but a slight push. Laying still on the ground, his body appears to be detained by an invisible force, his limbs straining but barely moving. Murmurs go through the crowd, and the three remaining attackers back off immediately, scrambling to get some distance inbetween them and the man; Vora, seemingly not bothered by the interruption

Secondly... Whoever, if any, manages to get the fruit, will receive a lucrative invitation, courtesy of... You know what, I'll keep that for another time. I suggest you start panicking now, the guards are coming~

He almost sings the last words, and with them, a majority of the present criminals seem to panic indeed. The more hardened ones keep their composure, but even they seem to raise an eyebrow or two at the how sudden the self-proclaimed Vora disappeared amongst the stomping masses. Finally, the fastes ones break open the door and flood out, all of them into the bar upstairs, where they start to split off in various directions.

[/bG]

 

[Aero Blue]

Merrill had been deep in thought surveying the man with the prodigious facility for eating, wondering what the correct word was for something that was not quite awe, and certainly not anything near envy. Just a term approaching bemusement at something different. Enclosed in an ambient bubble where every molecule was a gigaton weight, and this man simply chose to devour food of questionable consistency. So perhaps she wasn't in the least bit surprised when it was this notable man who cut through the tension.

She had been interested for a bit, until Vora brought up the buzzwords 'Magna personnel'. Merrill groaned; she was halfway to three-quarters legit, and this was nothing but trouble. The words catalyzed - almost at once, the atmosphere was as if on fire. Merrill felt her form tense up, calves tightening as she readied herself towards the door. She was no good in a situation like this, not without Sweet Sister. And yet she craned to hear out the mono-eyed man, captivated in spite of herself.

An Eclipse Fruit was a wondrous thing indeed, although not something Merrill had a particular use for.

Unless, of course, she managed to speed off with it, sell it to the highest bidder, along with a complimentary demonstration of cutting-edge Cerberus tech. Ambitious, certainly, and downright foolhardy. But Merrill refused to come here empty-handed; if Vora was going to ruin her chances for peaceful marketing and networking, she was just going to have to enact her own publicity stunt.

All she needed: to get back to her dear Cerberus.

And so as the more stalwart hooligans managed to break the door free, Merrill employed the grandest tactic she knew in this situation - some cry wolf, others crybaby. She burst into melodramatic tears as she charged towards the exit, screams of 'I'm just an innocent girl!', and 'Mommy!' and 'I am a poor, lonely sandwich artisan!' erupting from her throat. A whirling dervish of shrill shrieks and crocodile tears, Merrill's unorthodox approach somehow granted her significant headway, a bawling typhoon.

 

[Dunruffle]

Nork had been quiet the entire time, mostly because he was focused on eating all the unique food. Several people watched in either curiosity or disgust as Nork devoured plate after plate. Nork shifted slightly, causing the chair beneath him to creak in pain. Looking up at the one-eyed man, Nork listened curiously as he explained the situation. Nork had heard of eclipse fruit before from his first employer Mr. Kitjon. He did not remember much, only that the fruit were very special and rare.

Until recently, Nork had been a bouncer at a small bar in the wasteland. The pay was small, but he was given a room and three meals a day. Which was more than enough for the hulking mutant. One day, a shady looking man came in and asked to hire Nork. Seeing as he had not travelled in awhile, Nork agreed and left with the man. Nork then was taken to Bonhiem where the man was going to be part of the meeting. Right before the meeting started, his employer disappeared. Slightly annoyed, Nork decided to attend the meeting to see what all the fuss was about.

Looking around at all the anxious people, Nork had to think things through for a few moments. Realizing that being caught by the guards is bad, Nork quickly stood up and shoved his way out of the bar. The girl wailing and crying caught his attention, and being the chivalrous mutant he is, Nork decided to help. Following the girl outside, he tapped her on the shoulder with one of his chunky fingers. "You ok girly? You need help getting back to mommy?" Nork tried to put on his most charming smile, which mostly consisted of him showing off his large teeth. He meant no disrespect to the girl, he simply wanted to make sure she was safe from all the other thugs.

 

[rissa]

---

Chaos. Bloody brilliant chaos. Quintana stood from her chair slowly, smiling softly as she did. She was perhaps one of the last to leave the room and yet not near the last to the leave the building. Taking her time, the Sunny Valley native let the goons, thugs, and mercs fight for a way out of the black-steel doors and up a rickety set of stairs. The strongest it seemed, made their way up and out the quickest, though a short golden-haired someone managed to cry her way up the stairs.

That too was brilliant.

Quin glanced down at her watch… it was perhaps a minute and a half since Vora's disappearance and his heads up on the call to local authorities. Seeing as it took on average five to seven minutes to respond, Quin rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and reached inside. Where it was always, deep in the pit of her stomach, was a cache of strength. It burned, when she tapped into it, like a shot of starshine whiskey. She let the heat flow throughout her veins, strengthening every aspect of her body. It wasn't much of a mystery anymore… her abilities. By the time she realized where they came from and how she must have came by them, the otherworldly powers were second nature, used instinctually from her years of training.

She shouldered through the first few thugs and then pushed a few more out of her way before getting sucker punched from the left. Her jaw stung and a few stray tears pricked her eyes as she swung back. The teeth of her combatant cut the bony flesh of her knuckles and pulling back for another punch, took hold of the pain, using it to her advantage. Quin swung again, albeit blindly, and through the jostling thug filled crowd barreled her way to the first floor. She cracked a smile; it worked.

Realizing it had taken too long, Quin eyed the top floor and noticed a hulking figure bent down near the golden haired figure. Rolling the dice, she walked over and stared the guy down before grabbing the young woman's shoulder protectively. Without taking her eyes off the mutant, Quin spoke to the girl.

"You the owner of that Cerb aintcha'? I got Merits for a seat. Maybe a punch or two for this ugly fucker."

---

Tags: @alaska @Shizuochan @Dunruffle

 

[Bears]

Technically Diederick was a rogue. He had a very real bounty for a very real series of crimes he had committed...and while those Magna Corp dogs deserved to get shot it didn't mean he was allowed to shoot them. With that said, he felt no connection to his fellow outlaws nor did he feel any need to try and change them for the better. What he had in common with the majority that filled the room ended at the format of their wanted signs.

It was because of that he felt no remorse at the chaos brought on by the messenger. Diederick quietly stood up in the disorder, his mind more preoccupied by what their host meant by 'Magna personnel' then trying to get out in time. Had he meant him? Diederick? Not many knew of his ties to Magna...and if he did that would pose plenty more questions.

Diederick would have to wait before he could look for an answer though because an unsavory little prick took the time to try and profit off of the mayhem by swiping a loose pouch the sharpshooter kept hanging from his belt. He was unsurprised, but ultimately annoyed, and with a tired growl he stalked after the young man.

Through pushing when pushed and laying others out when necessary, Diederick made it to the first floor just as the hooligan barreled towards the door. A single shot rang out above the crowd and that young man crumbled just a foot away from freedom. With his rifle smoking and dragging against the boards next to him, he walked over calmly and first inspected his shot.

It was clean through the calf but eh...he had done better on moving targets. His next priority was looking for his pouch and was heavily disappointed to see that the thief had crushed it with the weight of his falling body. He kicked the man until the fool flipped over on his back and ignored the wounded groans as he emptied the contents of the pouch onto his own gloved hand.

What remained of three weeks of intensive flower gathering was now pulverized into brittle fragments and Diederick immediately shot the man again after realizing it. A wide frown found his lips as the 'flowers' fell through the cracks of his fingers and Diederick was so invested in his flora (or in this case--the lack thereof) that he had failed to notice the odd trio that he now stood in front of.

 

[Aero Blue]

Merrill was making all sorts of new friends!

She was somewhat loathe to resort to the damsel-in-distress act, yet could not help but reluctantly note it's surprising effectiveness. There was some aspect to the idea of playing the savior that humanized even the most deplorable figure. Which was, of course, certainly not the immediate reaction Merrill Fitbit had to the hulking brute - for that would have been profiling!

"I'm twenty-five- not just a girly- thank you very much… and my mommy's dead."

Still, Merrill did instinctively take a few steps back from the mutated man, closer towards the staunchly built woman, composed in a regal sort of handsomeness. There was a sense of severity to her, a gravitas that made Merrill believe that she could prove a match for the hulkling, even despite the disparity in the stature. And then there was:

"Also, I'm… pretty sure that guy with the metal on his face literally shot someone. Are ya'll used to that?"

Merrill's mind was on a swivel, as she began to take inventory of where she was, and what exactly she wanted her next move to be. Her mind ran the gamut from meeting the ogre, the tall woman to a certain buzzword; 'Merits'. She latched onto that, turning towards Quintana. "Yanno, I doooo own this here Cerb, finest product from the Roadkill Deli (you've heard of us, right?). And I'm a girl that can offer you anything you need; you wanna roll out away from the Magnies? I got you! Wanna bag up that Eclipsey Fruit? On the double!"

"I'll do it free of charge, hell! Just need you to be word-of-mouth it up for me in return. And maybe punch the ugly… lemme check." Merrill turned back towards the massive being, "You're not trying to do any freaky things right…? Faces like yours shouldn't be saying the word 'Mommy'."

@BearEnthusiast @rissa @Dunruffle @alaska

 

[Dunruffle]

Nork frowned as he tried to make sense of what the girl just said. "But...you said..." One could almost see the gears in Nork's head turning trying to process Merrill's statement. "Oh! It was not true! Very sneaky." Nork nodded appreciatively at the charade but tilted his head in confusion when Merrill began to question him. "Freaky things?...umm...no? Just wanted to help, I help ladies." Nork smiled and turned to Quin. "You can punch me if you want. Prolly wont hurt much, thick skin." Nork chuckled but stopped when he noticed a figure moving up from behind Quin.

The thug Quin had punched earlier had returned for revenge, this time with a knife. Lunging at Quin's back, he was stopped when Nork's giant hand swallowed the knife. Nork towered over the thug as he pulled the knife out of his hand. "Bad man trying to hurt lady." The thug tried to run but Nork grabbed him by the neck and held him up off the ground. "Bad man no hurt ladies anymore." With a sickening crunch, Nork crushed the thug's neck, causing the thug to go limp. Tossing the body into an alley, Nork inspected the stab wound on his hand. Shrugging to himself, Nork wiped his blood off on his shirt and turned back to the two women. "See? I am good guy. Stop bad man from hurting lady."

Turning to look at the lone gunman, Nork shrugged and looked back at Merrill. "People get shot lots. I dont care." Looking over at Merrill's cerberus, Nork eyed it like a child would a shiny toy. "Cerberus look very cool! I too big for lotsa cerbs. You make it?"

 

[sun.]

[bG=#f6f3ed]

[bg=#333333]A R C - 1 // O N | T H E | H O R I Z O N[/bg]
[bg=#333333]T O R R E S | G I V E N N I[/bg]​

With her feet on her chair, instead sitting on the backrest, Torres observed the ruckus all around her. She really hadn't anticipated such a development; this felt more like a setup at worst, or a gameshow at best--neither of which she felt particularly fortunate to participate in. She almost fell over as she jumped off the piece of furniture, startled by the gunshots. It wasn't that a firefight was excessively scary, but she could think of various things she'd rather be confronted with. That Eclipse Fruit, for example, was rather high up the list.

Dragging her feet, she approached the exit, stopping at the odd sight of a young-looking girl, a brute of a man, and a woman that struck Torres as danger, before observing the old guy and his petals. Torres watched him fiddle around with a small pouch, running flower remains through his fingers.

"Shooting someone over some potpourri is a first." she remarked, stretching out her shoulders while keeping her hands in her pockets. This meeting had some odd fellows, moreso than she had expected, but the young girl's self-promotion demanded her attention more than the freakshow. She stepped past the giant of a man, who was all giddy, almost like a child during birthday morning.

"Hey, you," Torres said, grinning down to the blonde, "how about some actually payment?" she asked, knowing the Merits are what made the world go 'round. "I'd really, really rather not be arrested..." Torres pondered, tapping one index-finger on her bottom lip, before smirking. "If you can get me out of Bonheim with that fruit, I'll happily spread the word, too."

Her eyes darting back to the short-haired woman standing close. She excuded a sense of competitiveness, and it ticked Torres off enough for her to stand-up straight for once, leering at her with a challenging look. HEr gaze still glued to Quintana, she spoke to Merrill while rattling around some coins in her pockets, as if to entice the girl. "That is, if you'd like some reliable customers."

[/bG]

 

[Aero Blue]

There was some sort of theory regarding desensitisation, routine making even the most macabre into the commonplace. Regrettably, a giant brute essentially vaporising a man's neck and lifeforce with his bare hands did not quite fit so neatly into the theory. Merrill suppressed the urge to hurl, strengthened only by the fact that the night's dinner cascading upon her outfit would do absolute nightmares upon her reputation. She was meant to consort with criminals, after all. She was meant to be hardened, impassive in the face of death.

"I, uh, yes. I made it - well, her, more specifically. 'Sweet Sister', the sibling I never had. She got the good genes, you see; isn't she beautiful?" The personable merchant's banter flowed freely from a pallid, nervous face, "Also I'd like to formally retract my usage of the F-word; you aren't freaky at all! You just have abnormally big hands, and you know what they say about men with big hands. Something something strangulation."

The callous death was not the only thing that made Merrill feel like a fish-out-of-water. For what seemed like the first time, people were fighting over her services. Conveniently forgetting the scenario at hand that compelled such a sense of urgency, Merrill allowed herself a bit of pride. The newcomer's appearance was also a matter of pride for Merrill - she seemed, with her choice of hair-pigmentation, 'hip'. And hip customers made the world go round. The only problem was:

"I... I made a verbal commitment, you see. Uh, um." Merrill's head turned on a swivel, frantically switching from Torres to Quin, Quin to Torres, and back again. "M-maybe I offer her a chance to match price - she asked first, you know? Or... rock, paper, scissors?"

She grinned, sheepish.

 

[sun.]

[bG=#f6f3ed]

[bg=#333333]A R C - 1 // O N | T H E | H O R I Z O N[/bg]
[bg=#333333]T O R R E S | G I V E N N I[/bg]​

The secret cellar had mostly cleared out. A few experienced criminals, some of them looking distinctly elderly, were still crawling around in the dark corners. One of the thugs who had been taken out by Vora limped up the stairs, his companions long having abandoned him.

Torres scoffed, crossing her arms. She made it a point to look away, instead gazing emptily towards a far corner. "Hmph..." It appeared the lanky woman took the girl's words personal. Rubbing the tips of her index and middle finger against her thumb, she grinned down at Merrill with flashed teeth. "Well, your loss li'l miss. Ya know, I might have taken a liking to the person helping me, and, uh..." She paused, squinting at Quin in an almost challenging manner, as if to get a rise out of her. Finally, she shrugged. "Well! Guess I'll just keep the fruit to myself then. Not that I'm complaining."

The former mobster walked past the two women non-chalantly, tapping the hulking brute on the shoulder. "You seem like the type to value some straight-forward pay though. It's always easier to get a nifty item like an Eclipse Fruit together, so what about it?" Under normal circumstances, Torres wasn't exactly the definition of a team player. But with a number of angry, veangance-seeking Nobles on her heels, in a strange city, with-apparently-Magna forces on their way, a bit of backup seemed like a good idea.

Before the mountain of a man could reply, however, faint sirens sounded through the air; with the tight seal of the security doors gone, the chaos in the streets of the inner circle flooded into Hoki's secret lair, and the sound of weapons being fired, unmistakably final and loud, echoed. Screeches and trampling followed, suggesting a mob of panicked bystanders. Finally, even the composed veterans began to hurry up the stairs.

Torres winced, her body tensing. "Better hurry, big boy!"

Just then, a muffled gulp, the beginning of a sentence cut short by a precise, windpipe-crushing shot, interrupted the scene. A uniformed body tumbled down the stairs, and crashed into the corner of the little staircase. One of the three senior Rogues had pulled a small gun, the barrel still glowing. "They know..." one of them mumbled, all of them staring at each other for a second or two. None of them waited, however, or even showed as much as a hint of remorse. Instead, they hurried upwards. It was painfully obvious that at the very least the local authorities had arrived, with the sirens growing louder and louder.

[/bG]

 

[Dunruffle]

Nork was examining the fancy cerberus when Torres tapped his shoulder. Turning to face her, he paused as she gave him an offer. Mulling it over for a few seconds, Nork rubbed his chin as he watched a group of panicked bystanders rush down the street. Making up his mind, Nork looked down at Torres and nodded. "Okay lady. I take deal. Lets go."

Moving to stand close behind Torres in a classic bodyguard position, Nork's formerly dopey expression changed to one of serious focus. Nork took his job very seriously, as having your boss die under your care leaves a bad impression. Nork's head was constantly on a swivel, scanning for any threat. "Better get goin boss. Guards gonna be here soon." Nork turned to the other two women and nodded. "Be safe ladies. Lotsa bad guys gonna be runnin around."

Nork did not really care about the fruit, but the prospect of getting paid to escort a pretty lady was a good deal. Usually the people he protected were either criminals or some kind of weak person. Plus Nork rarely visited big cities so it was also a chance to get some sight-seeing.

A pair of magna corp guards rounded the corner and stopped to survey the scene. Out of all the people in the street, the small group with a hulking brute stood out the most. The two men approached the group warily with their hands on their weapons. "You all! Halt and wait for questioning! There is a report of criminal activity in this area." Nork turned around began lumbering towards the two guards. The pair pulled out their weapons and stood their ground. "Halt or we will shoot!" Nork did not stop and the two guards fired into him. The bullets simply felt like small stings through his thick skin as Nork reached the guards. A giant fist sent one guard flying with the crackling of breaking ribs, as the other guard desperately tried to reload. Nork grabbed the gun hand of the guard, crushing it along with the gun. The guard cried out in pain as Nork lifted him up and threw him through a glass storefront window. Lumbering back over to Torres, Nork curiously poked the bullet holes in his chest. "Boss Kitjon always said to be nice to guards. So I only hurt them little bit."

 

[Bears]

Pfft. Considering how most flowers around Create looked, Diederick would have willingly kill a few men if it meant he could get his hands on some proper potpourri. His blue eyes held a glint of curiosity as his attention shifted towards the gathering just a few feet from him. The four of them looked like the butt of a 'so and so walked into a bar' joke. Though after some thought, Diederick had to admit that extended to himself as well.

Crime and Eclipse Fruit just had a way of uniting the oddest of them, apparently.

He watched as the situation unraveled before him. The two capable women verbally competed for the girl's assistance while the hulking giant seemed to be content just being around. Stragglers filtered out from underground, growing sounds of sirens implied company, and the chaos of bystanders flooding the area confirmed it.

Shifting his weight to one leg and placing his free hand against his hip amidst the chaos, he paid little mind to the sight of seeing Magna dogs being crushed like his petals had been. While he wasn't particularly interested in getting his hands on one of the Fruits, the sharpshooter's credit pouch had been a little light as of late...

With his decision made, he straightened up and moved closer to the lankier of the woman, his rifle and hands up just in case her new mutant bodyguard got the wrong impression. He flashed a smile.

"How bout' you throw some of that money my way darling?" The sharpshooter suggested nonchalantly, his eyes drifting downwards towards the various devices hanging from his belt before moving back up to meet the gaze of the group. "The name's Diederick and while I can't match big guy here's strength, I got other ways of contributing."

One gloved hand dropped down and unlatched a decently sized black device before tossing it to Torres. "I mean c'mon--when is a grappling hook never not useful?"

 

[rissa]

---

Potpourri. A single shot. A Cerb' named Sweet Sister. A broken neck. Whoever the fuck she was.

Quin scanned her surroundings, using her tapped power to attempt a read on the emotions of those around her. Nothing registered, not at first anyways, and so she didn't push it. Releasing a smidge more of her power, Quin squinted her eyes suspiciously, eyeing those nearest. The sirens were louder than ever, screeching to the rhythm of her racing heart. She took three deep breaths and pointedly looked at the newcomer, then at the owner of Sweet Sister, the mutant, and finally the sharpshooter.

They were untrustworthy, no matter their intentions. And her intentions were to find the Fruit. That was her mission. And having enemies in front of you was always better than having them behind you.

"Perhaps a deal," She said calmly, despite her heart, the encroaching sirens and echoing shouts of security bureau officials. "Merits can be provided for all. Terms and conditions regarding who gets the Eclipse Fruit can come later, they're here. But if you'd like a temporary partnership, suggest a meeting place and I'll meet you there."

A thin blade revealed itself, sliding out of the sleeve of her military jacket. She turned to go, hesitating only slightly to flash the blonde a cheeky grin. "I'll give the seat to pinky over there, if you promise to meet me somewhere. I'll give ya Merits just for a ride in that Sweet Sister of yours. More than she can offer ya, I'm sure."

---

Tags: @Shizuochan @alaska @BearEnthusiast @Dunruffle

 

[sun.]

[bg=#333333]A R C - 1 // O N | T H E | H O R I Z O N[/bg]
[bg=#333333]T O R R E S | G I V E N N I[/bg]​

Well, that was easy...

Torres smirked up at the brute, surprised and relieved in about equal amounts. Seemed this fella was rather simple-minded. He was... perfect for what Torres had in mind. Get the dirty work done, slither out nice and quiet, no issues following. She sneered vaguely into Quintana's direction, before giving Nork a an encouraging tap. Just as she wanted to agree with his suggestion of leaving the death trap that the bar would become in mere seconds, she stopped in her tracks as another pair of law enforcers came running. This time, however, her attention was on Nork, and how he casually walked through their bullets.

"Well, fuck me, that's a new one..." she mumbled, scratching the back of her head. This guy would pay for himself, it seemed. Squatting down to the guard to take a quick look at the damage her new-found bodyguard had done, she looked up at him. "If that's your old Boss's idea of being nice, I don't wanna see him angry, holy... Springing back up, Torres straightened herself out, getting ready to leave. "Alright, let's move, won't get any less crowded here, I'm afraid."

As she made a few steps towards the stairs, the voice of the cold-blooded old bastard sounded. Torres turned on her heels, lazily waving a hand to make it clear Nork had no reason to get to work quite this early. She raised an eyebrow. Was this really happening? A sharpshooter with gadgets and a thick-skinned colossus, and they were all willing to work for her? She briefly eyed him up and down. He certainly came prepared, but the array of tools only made him more suspicious in Torres' mind. What if he was one of the undercover agents eyepatch-guy mentioned earlier? He seemed sort of authoritive, at the very least.

"Won't hear me declining more manpower. As long as I get the fruit, I'll be generous. Let's get out of here though. Ta ta~" She waved at Quin and Merrill. Even now, she couldn't help but feel smug about how favorable her situation had turned out. "I'll pass on the seat, I think we're fine." she stated, her voice trailing off, as if she wasn't entirely sure. "Pinky will take the fruit, too, but good luck nonetheless." Putting extra emphasis on Quintana's choice of words, she marched up the stairs, pulling Nork closer for a brief moment. "Have an eye on him, yeah?" she whispered. Maybe her intution was wrong, but she'd rather be wrong than dead or captured.

As the trio made it upwards, a chaotic scenery stretched across their field of vision. Civilians rushed, hurriedly trying to get out of the authority's way. Meanwhile, occassional shootouts took place. It appeared those who left late hadn't managed to escape Bonheim's police, and so a few bloodied bodies and gunshots were scattered across the area. "Well, shit." Torres mumbled, taking in the chaos. Usually, she'd consider this an easy opportunity to escape amidst the noise, but she wasn't exactly able to leave just yet, and even so, her new bodyguard wasn't very subtle at all. "They're coming." she stated without hesitation, starting a halfhearted sprint towards an alley in the east. "If what that Vora figure said is true, it sounds like they want to get the fruit outside the city... I'm thinking we snatch it shortly before whoever transports it and use the proximity to the gate to make a run for it. I reckon we won't get out of here without a fight anyways. Uh... Unless either of you was planning on staying?" Before they could answer, however, A small troop of four officers approach Hoki's, three of them struggling to keep up with their apparent leader's pace.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!

"Well! Shit!" Torres repeated, this time with emphasis. With a groan, she put up her hands.

As the officers approached, two of them fumbling with cuffs, Torres leaped forward. What a bunch of rookies in the middle of a crisis. She had imagined Bonheim differently, really. Yelling "Go, go, go!", she landed a straight hook in the first guy's jaws, She knew that they were no match for the three of them, but reenforcements were on their way, that was certain. So... take 'em out or run?

While the ragtag troop got aquainted with the Bonheim authorities, more officers rushed into Hoki's. The two women in the cellar could hear the sound of several pairs of feet descending into the basement.

"Nobody move!"

Belting out her orders, the leading officer held up a gun, alternating between Merrill and Quintana. The other two officials leisurely walked across the room, occassionally taking pictures of the walls. The woman with the firearm raised her weapon and nodded towards the stairs.

"Up there, hands where I can see them. And while you're at it, tell me what you two are doing here?"

The ruckus above seemed to have calmed down, with the chaos moving throughout the city. A race between several dozens of Rogues for the Eclipse Fruit raged through Bonheim, even if most of its citizens didn't know. Time was valuable, perhaps moreso than usual.

​

​

​

​

 

[Jakers]

"*Pant*... *pant*..."

The sound of approaching sirens wailed around the approaching alleys, as a pair of flimsy rubber wheels carried him through the alleys to his 'destination'. A shock of auburn hair tailed behind the man, desperately pedaling. He couldn't be late... he couldn't be late...

"*Pant*... *pant*..."

It as the promise of a miracle - the chance that he could save her- that had led him to be knee-deep in this shit. He was willing to risk it all, but already, things were going pear-shaped. Public transport could only get him so far in the more obscure areas of Bonheim.

"*Pant*... *pant*-- u-ughhh...!"

A worn tire wobbling, skidding to the side, and his body crashing onto the pavement, a wave of people had suddenly began to flood out of that musty, suspicious bar: his 'goal'. Shady figures shoving him off his ride, Grant Pysen was floored onto the ground in undignified manner, knees grazed from a tough impact.

"Auhh- oof! Gaah! Damn this... *cough*..."

Squinting eyes reaching for his glasses as footsteps continued to blare around him and occasionally trampling over Grant, he managed to find the time to slip the stylish glasses back on up through the bridge of his nose. By the time he had them on and could see again, though, the familiar sound of wheels spinning sounded behind him. By the looks of things, it had become a race: and one stray criminal had already taken the advantage by pilfering his bicycle.

"H-hey, wait! That's my..." Grant's voice slowly died down as sirens blared, and his bicycle was long gone, leaving him stranded by the bar with authorities bustling everywhere. "...Bike." Standing up blankly, he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about that comfortable life he'd left behind for this. But it was for her. Anything was for her.

Today would be the first day Grant Pysen would break the law.

-----​

Panic setting in, police began to surround the area. Various bags strapped across the young man, he bit his lip with a panicked expression as shouts of surrender and arrest began to echo around him. He couldn't stay here, he didn't have the time to be in prison. He needed to somewhere to hide.

Thankfully, a weedy nerd such as himself seemed to be the least of the authorities' worries. A trio that seemed to be cut straight from the 'badass' cloth were holding their own just fine: a pink-haired girl rushing forward and hooking a recruit police member right in the chops. To accompany this woman, there was some sort of obscenely huge and strong-looking man, along with a grizzled war veteran. With more authorities seemingly distracted with this bizarre scene, Grant took the opportunity to slip through the guards, heading into the bar to take cover from the approaching police.

Rushing through a collection of broken glasses, spilled alcohol, and abandoned plates of half-eaten stew, Grant's breathing intensified to the point it felt ill upon seeing a limp-necked body on the floor. Jesus... he was getting into some real shit. If he got caught here, he'd have to prove he wasn't a murderer above many things.

Thinking fast, Grant chose the first option that seemed like it would be a mildly appropriate place to hide before this place got truly swarmed: the basement. Keeping quiet and tiptoeing down the stairs, Grant bit his lip down, hard, as he realized that when he'd got to the bottom of the basement, he was only staring into the back of yet another police officer.

It seemed he'd walked into something he really shouldn't have. Two women - presumably criminals like he technically was right now - were being threatened at gunpoint. If anything, one wore a shirt with a smiley face on it that provided some comfort in the situation, but he was still one step away from crapping his pants.

He hadn't been spotted yet, but this situation was bad. Really bad. He was directly behind this armed female police officer, and could spot two other policemen distracted with taking pictures of the walls - presumably for forensic evidence. Slowly reaching into his bag, not daring to make a single loud move.

...Was he really going to do this?

Grant took a deep breath, quietly pouring an amount of chloroform his medical bag into a tissue.

He was.

Suddenly jolting forward, Grant quietly bought the sedative-coated tissue around the officer's mouth and nose from behind, his knees feeling like jelly. Feeling her consciousness fade and her body slump in his grip, it didn't feel good at all, even if it was a non-lethal takedown.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry..."

As her gun dropped to the floor, Grant felt like he'd only made the situation worse for these two, but fear was an impulse that caused him to stupid things. Giving the two women a silent look that was a mixture of fear, planning, and above all: awkwardness, he swiftly kicked the police officer's gun over to the two strangers. Maybe they could get out of this alive; the two policemen taking pictures would surely be distracted. ...Or maybe they'd just shoot him.

For a first day doing bad things, it almost felt like too much.

 

[Dunruffle]

Nork looked the gunman over and nodded at Torres' order. "Gotcha boss, I watch him for anything sneaky." Nork watched as Quin vanished, leaving the girl mechanic behind. Nork frowned, he did not like the idea of leaving the girl behind, but he had his orders. He reached over and patted the girl's head. "Bye girly, watch out for bad guys."

As Torres ran off, Nork lumbered after her. While he was by no means a runner, Nork had more than enough stamina to keep up a steady pace. Listening to Torres, Nork shrugged. "I follow you until you dont want me to...oh and also get paid! Better not try to not pay me, I dont wanna hurt you."

Following his leader down the alley, Nork stopped when the guards demanded their surrender. Watching Torres land a solid punch on the first guard, Nork followed her lead. Closing the distance to the next two guards, Nork backhanded one of them. The crack of a broken jaw sounding clearly as the man crumpled to the ground. Nork then turned to his next target and grabbed the guard by his head. The guard yelled and struggled but to no avail, Nork simply chuckled as he slammed the guard's head into a wall and dropped the unconscious man to the ground.

Nork was about to follow after Torres when he heard shouts from behind them. Looking over his shoulder, Nork blinked as he saw a large group of heavily armed guards begin to rush down the alley. Looking around, Nork grabbed a nearby metal door and ripped it off its hinges. Turning the door sideways, Nork jammed the door into the walls of the alley, creating a makeshift barricade.

"Cant go back now boss! Too many guards!"